


A Good Boy

by WinryWeiss



Category: Tintin (Comics), Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: I have never ..., M/M, Twisted, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinryWeiss/pseuds/WinryWeiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He differs from the first impression you might make about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely no beta.
> 
> Basically, The Crab with the Golden Claws "retelling" from Captain’s PoV.

Am I really _that_ miserable?  
  
I know that I’m just a drunken old fool. Worn down sea-dog without any perspectives. The one who give up easily, never able to resist own urges. Slave of the bottle. Damn easy to manipulate.  
  
But, am I really that miserable?  
  
To be swept off my feet by … by … by _him_?  
  
Him.  
  
The most wonderful, most adorable, most beautiful and most rotten creature ever walking upon the Earth.  
  
Tintin.  
  
Just his name, those two repeating syllables, makes me shiver. And the gaze he could cast with his eyes, those mesmerizing emerald eyes. He looks so innocent, so young, so fragile, but it is all just a façade. Perfect mask he wears, mask he uses to fool everyone. To lure them into what he wants.  
  
He let it slip for me, revealed his true self before me, that calculating ginger Devil, that sweet little Angel. He known that it will made me follow him like an abandoned puppy.  
  
“Be a good boy,” he said, after the plane crash. After I made the plane crash. “Be a good boy, Captain. Behave and I _reward_ you.” He said it with such a tone, gave me such a look, that I immediately understood what does he mean by it.  
  
He had known, must have known by the first moment he came crashing through my window. He had read me like a wide open book. But nevertheless I did exactly what he wanted me to do. Walked across that damned desert. Chased after him through unknown city. Not giving his whereabouts or plans to those wicked ruffians of crew I once was in command. Kissed him back while both of us were totally drunk by accident and he clutched me, singing clumsily and giggling with that angelic voice of his. Patiently listened to those twin-like detectives and that Japanese guy who congratulated him and asked him for details over and over again. And now, waiting in this hotel suite, our hotel suite, for his return, chewing my pipe nervously.  
  
Am I really that miserable?  
  
The door clicks and Tintin walks inside, Snowy at his heels. When he notices me, he stops in the middle of the movement, few inches from the couch I am sitting in. He probably doesn’t expect me to be still here.  
  
While I got the freedom to do anything.  
  
While I could run away.  
  
 _Am I really that miserable?_  
  
Yes, I am.  
  
And he knows it.  
  
“So,” I swallow hardly, looking pleadingly into his eyes. “Was I a good boy?”


	2. A Very Good Boy

“So,” I swallow hardly, looking pleadingly into his eyes. “Was I a good boy?”  
  
Tintin stands there silent, surprise etched in his face. But then there is smirk, playfulness in his eyes. “Yes.” His voice is soft, sweet whispers gently dripping from those captivating lips. “Yes, you were.” He spreads his arms slowly, invitingly. “ _A very good boy._ ”  
  
Our gazes lock and I realize that I’m holding my breath.  
  
“You can collect your reward.”  
  
“Wh…What …” I stutter like an inexperienced schoolgirl “What exactly …”  
  
“Whatever you want.”  
  
I nearly choke on my pipe as my mouth hangs open with surprise.  
  
“You can do _anything_ you want with me.”  
  
He is an Angel, sent down from Heavens to protect me, to guide me from my gloomy past toward a brighter future. He is a Devil, risen from the depths of Hells, tempting me with every step I take, alluring and enticing. He is the greatest conundrum, more mysterious than anything this vast world could provide. He is an adventure, luscious and dangerous, irresistible.  
  
He is everything I ever wanted.  
  
Like, blue billions of blistering barnacles, I’m ever gonna let him go.  
  
“Tintin.” I whisper, closing my eyes, throwing myself into his embrace. “ _Tintin._ ” I moan against him, relishing his scent, one of far-away lands and exotic spices. I kiss him gently on the neck, enjoying the silent groan it forces out of him and the way he tilts his head to allow me better access. But I slid my hands down his sides, cupping his perfect ass, hoisting him up. He automatically wraps his hands around my shoulders, his legs around my waist, grinding us together, kissing me wildly.  
  
Oh, he did read me well, I do like rough sex.  
  
I stagger forward, loosely in the direction towards bedroom door, but it the end I slam us against the wall, pinning him between me and those stones. I melt into his mouth, mewling as our tongue dances in a sloppy rhythm. He is an excellent kisser. I grab handful of his ass, definitely leaving bruises, fondling him, making him hitch. I want him. Oh, God, I _want_ him. I’m hard just from this frail foreplay.  
  
“Captain.” He moans between kisses, his tone sending shivers through my bones.  
  
I smirk, nipping his earlobe, biting gently before I slip down, hitting my left knee in the process. Oh well, my knees will hate me tomorrow anyway. He gasps surprised as I kiss his cock through the fabric. I’m holding him upright and he has to tiptoe. Which is the most cutest thing ever. I reach to his belt, undo it with one jerk and drag his plus-fours down together with his underpants. He is ginger even there and somehow it make me chuckle. He breathes in sharply, but couldn’t voice what he has in mind, since I kiss it again, my lips brushing the head just right, if I could guess from his shudder. I puff on his bollocks which makes him thrash his head back and moan hoarsely, his hand shooting to my hair. I rearrange us a little, make his left thigh resting on my right shoulder, supporting him and giving myself better access. I lick his slit, kiss him passionately, lap hungrily on the underside of his shaft, grazing my teeth on his sensitive skin, scratching him with my beard.  
  
“Aaah. You’re such a tease.” His voice is shaky and filled with lust.  
  
“Nope. I’m yer good boy.” My voice is husky, more of a gruff rumble than anything else.  
  
Then I take him into my mouth, sucking, licking, lapping, groaning, biting a little, holding him firmly in place, since he starts to trash around, bucking into me, pulling my hair, moaning desperately, thrusting hard.  
  
And then, with a muffled cry, he came. Loch Lomond could not compare to his taste. I swallow everything, not letting a single drop go waste.  
  
His ragged breathing is the sweetest sound for my ears. I nuzzle his thigh, pressing a soft kiss there.  
  
His skilful fingers are combing through my hair. “A very good boy indeed.” There is a smile, a genuine one, plastered on his face. “I think you deserve better reward.”  
  
 _He is mine._  
  
I’m never gonna let him go.


End file.
